#olivia x major

[k1nky-fool]

Truth of a Parallel

Part 3: The Thirteenth Widow

Masterlist

Miguel O’hara x OC: Elisa Hannen

Pairing: M/F

Per Chapter Rating: Explicit (for violence reasons. there is no sexual content in this chapter).

Warnings: MCD (major character death), death is treated very seriously in this chapter with lots of angst. But this chapter is almost exclusively hurt/comfort.

Taglist: @gatnalien @sevikasstressball @musicmansauxcord @2downbad4dilfs @its-paprika

Gif by @prettyoatmeal

-Elisa-

To his credit, Eddie didn’t immediately freak out. His flurry of questions was held back in a much more clear minded move, but the longer he took to formulate a response, the more Elisa felt she was intruding on someone’s peace that she rightfully shouldn’t even know anymore.

“Nevermind, this was a bad idea.” Venom decided.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave.” Elisa began to turn around.

“No! I-” Eddie struggled. “I’m happy to see both of you.”

That made both her and Venom perk up. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Come on in.” He invites her away from the window. “I suggest utilizing the door next time.”

“I don't have any other clothes.” She pointed out, and he just grabbed her a hoodie and pair of sweatpants for her.

“Something has to be wrong, he has no reason to think we’re not here to kill him.” Venom panicked, but Elisa was more motivated to distract herself from everything going on outside.

Once she was comfortably situated in his clothes, on his couch with a cold beer, offered out of the kindness of Eddie’s own heart, Elisa waited patiently as Eddie finished whatever he’d been doing before she showed up. He eventually sat down beside her, being remarkably less awkward than she anticipated.

“I feel like I have the right to know why you came here of all places.” Eddie prompted. “Not to sound like a dick, but aren’t you still dating that MJ girl?”

“No, she broke up with me sometime last spring. Apparently there's a limit to how many times your fiancée can stumble into your apartment needing extreme medical attention and begging not to go to a hospital.” Elisa said.

Eddie actually laughed. “I must have missed that class in school.”

“You missed every class but sex-ed.” Elisa pointed out.

“Not nearly as many titties as I was led to believe by a certain friend at the girls academy down the block.”

Elisa gasped in offense. “I must have just had a better education than you.”

“Yeah, I’ll say. Still, you don’t know how to answer a question.” He jabbed back at her. “Why come here of all places?”

“Why does he have the right? You didn’t have the right to your questions when he was being a prick-”

She forced herself to take a deep breath, which Venom clearly wasn’t on board with and it made her slightly nauseous. “I’m overwhelmed. I figured if I had nowhere to go, I might as well settle on the worst.”

“That bad, huh?”

“What?”

Eddie snickered. “It had to get that bad before you thought of coming to me? You’re many things, but you don’t run from your problems.”

Elisa slumped back into the corner of the couch. “Yeah, I’ve got a track record.”

“Why can’t you go home?” He asked. “You got another heart to break waiting for you there?”

“I really wish that wasn’t as accurate as it is, but I’m not dating him.” She let herself accept the defeat all while still defending herself from something that wasn’t even attacking. “His name is Miguel. He’s a Spider-Man from a different universe, and he’s here to catch something that landed here that shouldn’t be.”

He just nodded, knowing that weird stuff like this was pretty typical for her ever since she became Spider-Woman and even more so after she became Widow. “Just out of curiosity, is he hot?”

“I’m working with him, I’m not oggleing this poor man that probably doesn’t even want to be in this miserable universe.” She defended, but Eddie just stared at her as she was having trouble meeting his eye line. “... He’s not… unattractive.”

“Uh-huh.” He smirked to himself in his victory.

Elisa was exposed, but she didn’t mind. Eddie wasn’t the same as he was back in high school and neither was Elisa. But somewhere inside both of them lived two weird kids that were still friends after everything. And Eddie still bought the same trashy brand of beer that was the only brand at the mini-mart that wouldn’t ID them.

“I feel like I’ve earned at least one question.” She suggested, and Eddie made an accepting gesture. “Why’d you let me in?”

“You snuck in.”

“Prick.”

“You know what I mean.”

Eddie laughed, but relented. “I didn’t like how we left things.” He admitted. “I’ve seen the amount you swing to MJ’s apartment, so if you’re not dating her, then you’re at least still friends. I thought there was a chance we could be friends again.”

That made sense, some part of Elisa felt the same. Eddie had betrayed her, and he pretty much ruined her lives as both Elisa Hannen, and Spider-Woman, forcing her to become Widow. And yet, when she was overwhelmed, she needed to find comfort. Whether she liked it or not, Eddie was that comfort. “Were you going to reach out at all?”

“I’ve started to call you about five or six times, but I’ve chickened out every single time.” Eddie admitted.

“What’d you want to say?” She asked.

He choked on his own breath for a little before just retrying with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. I really just wanted to know if there was a chance you’d let me try again.”

Elisa felt her heart sink, and Venom did too.

“He could start with a damn apology for once.” Venom hissed into her head.

I want to hear him out.

“Why the fu-”

“Eddie, you used me as a popularity stunt.” Elisa challenged. “Not just my name as a researcher at Oscorp, but also my persona as Spider-Woman.”

“I know.” He accepts. “And it’s no thanks to me that you managed to get on your feet after I published the hit-piece. I did it wrong back then, so I wanna make it right now.”

“You can’t make it right.” Elisa scoffed. “It’s already been done, and it was wrong to do it.”

“I-I know. I-”

“I fixed it without you. There’s nothing left to make right.” She explained to him. “So maybe just do it right next time.”

Eddie perked up. “Next time?”

“Absolutely not!”

Elisa nodded. “It’ll take a little more to get Venom on your side, though.”

“A little? This man better start groveling, or whatever humans do when they don't want to be eaten!” It snapped, still refusing to come out and talk to Eddie, itself.

Eddie agreed without question. “I understand. And I get that it won’t be the same, but I’m willing to be a better friend this time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Eddie.” She challenged, and he just kept smiling like an idiot. It was getting late, and Elisa couldn’t realistically stay the night at her ex-boyfriend’s house. “I should get going.”

Venom showed its eagerness to leave with how fast it materialized the suit over her skin and over her face. Elisa took the mask off her face and Venom soaked it back up while grumbling in annoyance in her mind.

“I’ll see you around.” Elisa took off his hoodie and sweatpants, giving him a friendly hug.

“Take it easy, Widow.” Eddie watched as she made her exit out the living room window.

“You made me hug him.”

“You’ll survive, Venom.”

“You going to face Miguel?”

Elisa knew she didn’t have another option, but she really had to know if they had been successful in tracking down Clara from 5302. She got back to her apartment and quickly got dressed, knowing Miguel was likely to show up now that her location was known.

She didn’t expect him to actually knock on the window when she sensed him land outside, but immediately, something was odd. The landing was far too quiet to be Miguel. Instead, Elisa cautiously approached her window to see who was there.

Olivia Weaver, Widow 5302, lifted a shy hand to wave at her. Despite how odd it was, Elisa opened her window and let her in. Olivia was about her height, but with a slimmer build. Her long, blonde hair was tied up on the crown of her head, being pulled through her mask to avoid a misshapen head under the mask. She took off her mask and her eyes were the same shimmering green that Elisa’s had been before Venom had bonded with her.

“Let me guess, Eddie?” She deduced. “He was a host of Venom in my universe too, and still your friend. Oddly enough, you still have Venom currently in my universe.” Olivia explained. “We knew it’d be wild when we found Elisa wearing the Widow mask.”

“You and the other twelve Widows?” Elisa asked.

“Yeah, all of us.” Olivia confirmed. “In every Widow universe, you were always just different. It’s why Venom always finds you. We were too busy wondering who would be hosting Venom if you were Spider-Woman that we never stopped to consider that maybe, Venom wouldn’t find another host.”

“Yeah well, I’ve got-”

“A track record.” Olivia interrupted, relishing in the awkward look on Elisa’s face after being easily predicted. “That’s the same line you said to me in my universe after I said Venom was only using you. Of course, not really you, but the look on your face suggests you want to throw a taxi at my face in this universe too, so maybe it’s a parallel trait.”

“Is being a know-it-all, priss a parallel trait for you?” Elisa snapped. “Miguel too shy to ask for my help, or are you here to tell me I’m not welcome in your Spider Society?”

Olivia threw something at her head at a surprising speed, but Venom moved her arm fast enough to catch it. It was a watch.

“Can you blame him? You’re intimidating.” Olivia joked.

“Wait, I thought none of them trusted Venom?” Elisa recalled quite easily, while Venom was just excited at the thought of going a second round with the Spider Society.

“Venom means a lot of things in the multiverse.” Olivia explained, “Meeting or bonding with Venom is a Canon Event. It’s just a Canon Event that is over for most of them. Peni lost her friend to the Ven#m mech. The Peter that noticed you really hurt his MJ while he was hosting Venom. Peter Porker faced a Symbiote in his universe called Pork Grind. Miguel nearly died fighting Venom in his universe. And don’t even get me started on the Venom Anomalies.”

That definitely sounded right for the reaction she got. “What about you and the other Widows? I even have the same face.”

Olivia took a deep breath. “Venom was originally drawn to my powers when it crashed. Venom and I ended up killing Oscar in my universe. That wasn’t the kind of hero I wanted to be. But it found Eddie, and he stayed hidden for a while, but when he published the Oscorp Expose, Venom took your side. And you were much more of a threat than Eddie was. You and Venom just have a different kind of bond than the other spiders do.”

“What does she mean ‘the Canon Event is over for the other spiders?’” Venom bristled.

That made her heart drop. “Olivia, is splitting from Venom a Canon Event?”

That was the question Olivia was avoiding.

It was obvious as soon as she asked it. Olivia took a moment to find the words. "It happens differently for everyone."

"Wait, we're gonna break up?" Venom panicked.

"We're not gonna break up, Venom." Elisa groaned, and focused again on Olivia. "Look, if everyone agrees that a Spider splitting from Venom is a Canon Event, then suddenly everyone I talk to is waiting for what would have to be the worst day of my life."

"Everyone's waiting for the next horrible thing to happen to you." Olivia pointed out, but when Elisa gave no sign of understanding her, she continued. "Is Oscar still alive in this universe?"

"He was locked up yesterday, I think." Elisa didn't understand what she was getting at.

"What about Dr. Claudia Connors?"

Elisa freezes. Claudia Connors worked alongside Nora Osborn in biochemistry, and her attempt at developing a method for regrowing limbs could have benefitted all amputees not unlike herself. Her serum went wrong and she became The Lizard. It was Claudia that introduced Elisa to Oscorp at all because she was the only scientist that truly enjoyed the publicity of it all. Claudia led the field trip her class had gone on.

Elisa made a cure for her, but while it worked on everyone she had turned, Claudia had been dosing herself too high, and the cure only sped up the rate it was killing her. Elisa didn't go to her Junior Prom, she attended Dr. Claudia Connor's memorial service.

"Yeah." Olivia knew the look on Elisa's face. "She's still alive in my universe. She went to your graduation party."

"Why would you tell me that?" Elisa asked.

"Because everyone just lives with it." She answered delicately. “If everyone is waiting for you and Venom to split, then they’re also waiting for me to lose Dr. Connors. For some others, we’re waiting for the Police Captain, Nora Osborn, Flint Marco. Everyone’s on a different timeline, Elisa. And after the worst of it is done, we have a support system made up of the only people in the multiverse that’ll understand.”

Elisa took a long look at the watch. “What about everyone that was ready to attack me? I doubt they’re welcoming me back with open arms.”

“They’re free to avoid you if they want, but if you guys want to sing kumbaya, then that’s up to you.” Olivia shrugged and opened the portal back to the headquarters. “But I know at least one guy that wants to try again.”

“That sounds promising.” Venom teased.

Shut up. Elisa stepped into the portal.

On the other side of the void, several spiders just stared. Some ignored her and continued on their way, and to her surprise, some even gave a polite wave. It was dark outside now, and the lights in the building were kind to her senses.

Olivia brought her back to Miguel’s platform where it had been lowered. His back faced Elisa where she noticed something interesting.

Miguel doesn’t have heightened awareness.

Venom recoiled. “Then how the hell did he pull one over on us?”

“Miguel!” Olivia called out so she wouldn’t startle him.

When he turned around, he seemed surprised to see Elisa. “You actually came back.” He noted.

“I told you.” Olivia reminded him. “Elisa was always an odd-girl-out.”

As much as Elisa wanted to pretend like Olivia didn’t know her at all, there was an obvious sense of familiarity that they had. Elisa remembered that she was in the hospital for 300 rads of acute radiation poisoning for a brief time after she was bitten by the spider. The science class that went on the trip had all made her cards, and Olivia hanged back while some more familiar faces visited her in the hospital with the class. MJ, Eddie and Holly all came to visit, but Olivia was kind enough to visit her personally, give her all the assignments she had missed, and went over her notes when Elisa didn’t understand. Elisa could only hope that her alternate self was kind enough to do the same for Olivia.

“I’m glad you came back.” Miguel said to her.

Elisa hopped up onto the platform with him. “I’m not gonna start running from my problems now.” She said, “What’s your status on the tracking device?”

Miguel’s expression didn’t give her much hope. "We may have underestimated her advancement."

“Uh-oh.”

"No chance that means we can track her tech?" Elisa hoped.

Miguel confirmed the difficult reality. “We realized she wants 4167 Carnage to find Clara.”

“Yeah, I talked to Clara Kassidy down at the station. She didn’t know who reported it, but she was able to figure out it wasn’t me. At least the two of them haven’t met yet.” Elisa supplied.

“Do my ears deceive me, or is she back?”

Olivia lit up like she was expecting this. “How nice of you to join, Peter.”

Peter swung up to meet them and glared at Elisa. “So what is she doing back, and with a watch, no less?”

“Not this wash-up again.” Venom groaned to her.

“Peter, we don’t have time for this.” Miguel argued.

“Miguel, she’s an OUCH waiting to happen!” Peter didn’t let up.

“Mind telling me what the hell an “ouch” is?” Elisa asked.

Olivia was kind enough to explain while Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering in Spanish under his breath, letting her explain. “An OUCH is an acronym for an Out of Universe Canon Hazard. It’s when either an Environmental Trigger travels across a universe and sets off a Canon Event for a spider that isn’t in their own universe in Type 1, or a spider in another universe stumbles across the right Environmental Triggers outside of their own universe in Type 2.”

Venom took offense, yet again. “Everyone is so certain we’re gonna break up.”

Elisa was just about done with this argument. “Peter, I turned you and all your spider friends into a joke because of Venom. Right now you vs. Venom is tallied up at zero to one. I’d say we’re doing fine.”

“And I’ll get your ass again!” Venom cheered to itself.

“We all loved the power the black suit gave us, but we know the cost of it is too much to justify wearing it.” Peter reminded everyone else. “The Canon says that the Spider and Venom will split. And I might not even be worried about any other Event, but if it’s triggered here or anywhere other than your universe, then we have a rogue symbiote on the loose, outside its universe.”

“It’s not his business!”

“Then we burn that bridge when we get to it!” Elisa hissed, only to be held back by Miguel.

“Elisa, stand down.” He said. “Peter, whether we like it or not, she’s bonded with Venom. Many spiders had to reach a truce with Venom to beat Carnage anyway. This might be the only way she survives this.”

Peter wasn’t happy, but at the very least, he understood Miguel’s point. He gave a warning pointer finger in return. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Try it.”

“Miguel couldn’t keep a tail on me for longer than a minute, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Cryptkeeper.” Elisa jabbed, and Olivia nudged her like that was something she shouldn’t have said to their principal, but it made both of them laugh.

“Híjole chicas, we need to figure out our next move, not pick little cat fights with each other.” Miguel chastised. “Now, we can’t find her, we can’t track her, and we’re fresh out of ideas.”

“Well, I don’t usually have tracking technology in my universe, so I say we do this the old fashioned way.” Elisa suggested and Olivia let out a long sigh, likely just tired that this couldn’t be solved by the magical mechanisms from Miguel’s universe.

“Oh, but two Widows investigating a parallel identity in each other’s universes, that’s not an OUCH waiting to happen either?” Peter just gave up on trying to argue this.

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” Miguel assured him, but Peter didn’t look very impressed as Elisa opened the portal to Earth-5302.

The portal came out on a roof near the Oscorp building. “Umm, fair warning Elisa, you might want to keep your mask on for this.” Olivia warned as she brought them to one of the many balconies of the building. Elisa was worried since she recognized this as the balcony to Nora’s Office, but as soon as they entered the building, she realized exactly what Olivia meant.

“Dr. Connors? We need your help on something.” Olivia greeted with joy like this was common.

Claudia smiled, welcoming Widow warmly. Her coat was neatly safety pinned up by her bicep to keep the residual limb safe while she worked in the laboratory. Elisa was left amazed at her face. 5302 Claudia was forty-seven. Her age was showing in a way that only reminded Elisa that she had failed eight years ago. “Who’s this with you?”

“Clara Kassidy found a way to travel across universes. This is the Widow from the universe that Clara invaded, and this is the Spider-Man that knows how to make sense of that tech.” Olivia explained. “We know she was working on her research here, and Oscorp still has copies of those records. We need to see what Clara was working on before she was arrested.”

Claudia took a long look at Elisa, and even Venom could feel her anxiety rising. When she finally took her eyes off her, Elisa was relieved that she’d moved on to observing Miguel. Claudia just nodded. “Alright, I can take you to her lab and unlock it for you, but that’s as far as I go.” She warned.

“That’s all we need.” Olivia thanked her and walked beside her as they led the way to the laboratory.

Miguel stayed back with Elisa, and he was as observant as ever. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“I’ll survive.” She dismissed. Claudia looked back at them for a brief moment, and Elisa tensed and averted her eyes.

“Maybe Peter was right.” Miguel wondered.

“Shut the hell up.” Elisa warned.

Most of the laboratories were sealed off in their own rooms to avoid contamination, and it was easy to plan a route that wouldn’t leave them exposed to any of the ones that had any glass on the walls. It allowed them to just duck under the view of any of the labs that had windows to the hall.

“This is it.” Claudia announced, opening the door with her own key. She stayed by the door as all three of them passed. The police were done here and now the records were organized in the office for anyone that needed to reference her work, with Nora and Claudia’s supervision. Elisa stayed in the back as she began looking around the laboratory. It had been mostly picked clean by the authorities, but the equipment was definitely more advanced than Miguel expected just based on the expression his mask held. Elisa found Kassidy’s desk to figure out if there was anything that suggested a plan, while Olivia and Miguel were assessing the equipment and theorizing ways to locate Clara or perhaps find other evidence of her escape.

There wasn’t much left on the desk, but there was a photo of Clara Kassidy several years ago, celebrating with Nora Osborn and Claudia in front of a chalkboard covered in mathematical work. “That was the day she mathematically proved AdS/CFT correspondence.” Claudia supplied. “Everyone was quite excited, understandably.”

Elisa put down the frame and continued searching without saying a word. She opened a few drawers and pulled out some manilla folders and opened them to see plenty of research papers on a device she called The Seeker. This looked somewhat important, and Venom was also lost on how to scan something and archive it for later use. Elisa poked at her watch for a moment and found a Call Lyla button, and she reluctantly pushed it.

Her tiny, hologram form appeared in front of the watch. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Lyla. Is there a way I can scan this for archiving?” Elisa asked, and Lyla was happy to show her how to use the scanner on her own.

Claudia watched in amazement, but kept giving useful context to Elisa. “That was a paper she wrote on quantum gaps forming between multiversal planes.”

Elisa knew just enough about Oscorp’s quantum physics experiments to understand what Claudia was saying, and what it meant. There were gaps between multiversal planes, and Clara had developed a machine that could seek them out, allowing her to travel through the gaps that already existed.

“It’s interesting to see her theory proven correct right in front of me.” Claudia mused. “I’m glad there’s a universe out there that has Elisa Hannen protecting it.” Elisa flinched and turned to Claudia. “That finally got you to look at me.”

Elisa didn’t know what to say, so she just gave up, signaling Venom to drop the mask. “How did you know?”

“I know the voice of my lab assistant that I see every day.” Claudia laughed, but it was bittersweet. “Something tells me that your universe wasn’t very kind to your version of me.” She said, noting the scar on Elisa’s cheek that she had no way of knowing came from a parallel version of Claudia herself.

“You died eight years ago.” Elisa confessed. “It was an accident that I couldn’t save you from.”

Claudia smiled sadly and Elisa struggled to stop herself from becoming a scared high schooler that never got to say goodbye to her mentor. “My version of you is still my lab assistant in this universe. She’s good friends with Holly Osborn, and she’s a talented chemist.”

“Nora kept me in that position when she hired Oscar. I was still in high school at the time, so I couldn’t take your spot.” Elisa explained. “I was seventeen when you died. And only a year later, Oscar was exposed.”

“Then it seems like your universe hasn’t been kind to you either.” Claudia figured. Olivia said that the Physk hit-piece had happened in this universe, which meant that 5302 Elisa had her trusted mentor to fall back on in this universe.

“You’re so much like my Claudia.” Elisa noted, really attempting to convince herself that this didn’t mean she was talking to a ghost of her friend.

“Elisa, I know I’m not her.” She offered. “But I also know that you aren’t my Elisa. So, just let me as I am, speak to you as you are.”

Elisa let Claudia take her hands in her one left hand. “If your universe has treated you anything like I think, then I hope you know that you’re doing good. The fact that you’re here means you’ve kept going after everything, and if you’re anything like my Elisa, then I know you’re the right person for the job.”

She couldn’t hold back anymore, she just hugged Claudia like she would have if she could have said goodbye. “If you’re anything like my Claudia, then I want you to know that, even after everything, you never stopped being my hero.”

Claudia hugged back just like how Elisa remembered. “Then keep being a hero over there for both of us.”

When they finally let go, Claudia just smiled, letting her get back to scanning documents.

“Just out of curiosity-”

“No, Claudia.” Elisa warned, knowing she was just wondering what had actually managed to take her out in a parallel universe. She was always quite the eccentric personality.

“Alright, fair enough.” She accepted.

“Do you know who your Widow is?” Elisa asked.

“Ms. Weaver told me her identity months ago when she was originally investigating Dr- Ms. Kassidy.” Claudia said. “But I can’t figure out who the triangle man is. I know that’s not Eddie.” She suggested, nudging Elisa’s shoulder with her stump in an old joke. She definitely noticed something suggestive between the two of them.

“N-No, he's Spider-Man from a universe that’s ninety-seven years ahead of us with a wildly different history.” Elisa explained. “He brought together hundreds of spider people to investigate and apprehend malicious universe travelers.”

“Hmm…” Claudia mused. “Then you probably know more than me how troublesome that could be.”

That caught Elisa off guard. “Troublesome?”

Claudia was surprised she had to explain, but it seemed that she was somewhat aware of the theory of Clara’s work. “All of these spider people would be parallel identities in some aspects. I just hope you know that affecting other realities, especially your own parallel identities, might be dangerous for the integrity of that reality’s durability.” Claudia warned, and Elisa was somewhat worried now, thinking of Miguel.

She really did like Miguel, but Claudia was right. Interfering with Miguel’s reality or getting too attached to him and neglecting events that are supposed to happen in hers could be detrimental to the Canon. After all, Canon Events included events like meeting partners like Eddie and MJ, or making friends like Holly or Claudia. If Elisa got too caught up with Miguel, then her own reality could suffer for it. She didn’t need Miguel or Peter to tell her that the Canon was the very fabric of reality that they all existed on. Ignoring or trying to change it could have disastrous effects.

“I’m not dumb enough to start letting romance get in my way.” Elisa assured her.

“Well, you’ve got a track record.” Claudia laughed, and Elisa was once again surprised that she was actually happy to hear those words come from Claudia at least one more time.

Miguel and Olivia came back, happy with their own scans. “We got what we needed, we think we might know where to find her equipment.” Miguel said as Elisa’s mask crept back up her face.

“Good. I got all her research data for reference later.” Elisa offered.

“Alright, we have a trail!” Olivia clapped in excitement. “Thank you, Dr. Connors.”

“My pleasure.” She said, guiding them to the nearest balcony. “And good luck to all of you. We’re lucky to have people like you to keep us safe.”

They bid her goodbye and continued on to find where Clara had set up her equipment after breaking out of prison. Miguel kept pace with Elisa once again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Elisa answered. “I just needed to talk to her.”

Miguel didn’t press, likely understanding exactly what just happened. Elisa would just have to move on with the fact that she would never live in a reality where she could truly tell Claudia Connors just how important she was to her. But getting to hear her mentor tell her that she was the right person to protect her own reality was healing. And Elisa got to make sure that in this universe, Claudia Connors would die knowing that she was never seen as a villain to people that loved her.

“That’s good, then.” Miguel said.

The group came to a subway station, and found their way to a maintenance tunnel. The fence in front of them had a locked gate and Elisa grabbed the lock, allowing Venom to poke and prod within it to get it open without much effort.

“Gracias, Venom.” Miguel acknowledged.

Venom bubbled in excitement in Elisa. “I like him too.”

She just laughed and continued down the tunnel with the two of them. Olivia led the way, looking closely at the ground and walls to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. She likely realized at the same time Elisa and Venom did that this tunnel was essentially a choke point.

You know anything about Carnage as a member of your species?

“Carnage is a red rank member of my species.” Venom explained. “Black rank symbiotes, like me, are sent as scouts to worlds that are meant for hunting grounds, as you know. If we do not contact the base, then the planet is not viable for hunting. Red rank symbiotes are physiologically different from my rank. They have the ability to cannibalize equal and lower ranked symbiotes.”

So, did you contact the base when you arrived on my planet?

“I never got the chance to. But I don’t think 5302 Venom did either if it found you.”

“This looks like it.” Olivia announced, finding a lightswitch that did not light up the whole underground lab, but was sufficient enough to find what Clara was doing.

Only one wall was lit up by the lamp beside it. The brick was patterned with all kinds of calculations for the tech she had used to travel. There were tables that were filled with gadgets and papers, only vaguely lit up by a couple of lamps in the cylindrical, brick dome.

Elisa found a reason to be next to Miguel again. “Venom says Carnage’s rank of symbiote is known for cannibalizing equal and lower rank symbiotes. Is it possible 5302 Clara and Carnage want to destroy my Carnage?”

“It’s not impossible, but if they’re trying to kill Canon, then they’re much more dangerous than we anticipated.” Miguel noted.

“Hey, guys?” Olivia called out. They both looked across the circle to see what she was worried about. It was a very interesting contraption, being a collapsible cylinder with a lens that someone could see through. The cylinder itself was bulky, nearly the size of Miguel’s arm, and it looked at least nearly complete.

Miguel’s watch gave him a silent, buzzing alarm that he looked down at, and Elisa froze where she was.

“Something’s wrong.” Venom cautioned.

Elisa kept watching Miguel, and he dropped his wrist and put himself between Olivia and Elisa. He looked back at Elisa, but she couldn’t tell what his mask’s expression meant. His gaze turned back to Olivia, and he began to back up with Elisa, toward the exit.

“We have to get out of here.” Venom warned again.

Elisa’s own senses sent a chill down her spine and she could only do as Miguel said.

We aren’t alone in here.

Olivia had also just felt the presence that could have only been lurking above them the whole time, obscured by the shadow that lay out of reach of the weak lights.

A towering woman dropped from the ceiling, facing Olivia. Her skin was stretched with the red muscle that Carnage enhanced, and Clara wasn’t holding it back at all. It was a full symbiote takeover, and Olivia was right in front of the most dangerous enemy any Widow would ever face.

Elisa began to charge in, but Miguel stopped her. “Stand down, it’s a Canon Event now.” He grabbed her, opening a portal to leave, and leaving a drone to allow them to observe and help when the Event was done.

She followed Miguel through the portal, and they immediately opened the footage the drone was gathering.

Olivia barely dodged Carnage’s claws, but Elisa knew Olivia was smart. If any of her old classmates were clever enough to outsmart Carnage, it was Olivia.

Widow launched herself up to the ceiling, and in a moment, she proved Elisa’s assessment of her right. Olivia used herself as bait, correctly realizing that the ceiling of the brick cylinder likely came out above ground. When Carnage lunged at her, Olivia webbed the ceiling and dropped, using Carnage’s force, and her strength to kick Carnage through the brick ceiling, getting them out of the tunnel.

That was a good move, Olivia can catch it off guard out there.

“There’s no way.”

Shut up, she’ll do it.

Several more spider people ran into Miguel’s observatory to see what was happening. But when Elisa looked back to them, she realized that every Widow had heard that this Canon Event was happening for another Widow, and they all came to just hope that Olivia would be the one to tell them how to survive it.

Olivia kept running from Carnage, but it was easy to notice that she wasn’t trying to escape. She could have easily lost a tail, even if it were Carnage and Clara, but Widow’s were never known for being cowards. All of them have been knocked down no less than any other spider, but no spider, especially not Widows that had all found solidarity in their shared place in the multiverse. No, Olivia was leading Carnage somewhere.

Oh shit, I know this street.

“She’s calling on Venom for backup.” A Widow noticed. Elisa recognized her as Beatrice Jacobs.

The other Widows chattered anxiously amongst themselves, all while Elisa’s heart was beating a mile a minute, and she couldn’t tear her eyes off the screen.

She thinks I have a better chance of beating Carnage. Elisa didn’t want to think that. Olivia was one of the best. Elisa felt utterly hopeless. If Olivia thought Elisa was stronger or smarter than her, then they were all damned.

Olivia waited by a window and dodged just as Carnage’s claws grabbed at her, sending her hand plunging through the glass, and catching the attention of whoever was in the apartment. Carnage realized what had happened, and it grinned with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

The oily, black muscle completely overtook 5302 Elisa’s form. And her friend, Venom, was enraged. Surprisingly, both Venom and Olivia were able to catch Carnage off guard for a moment, and sent it flying into the ground.

Venom wasted no time going after it to kick it while it was down. Unfortunately, Carnage did not stay down for very long. It caught Venom’s neck in its claws and squeezed. Venom screamed out and Elisa had to look away, unaware that her own Venom had put her hand over her neck in an absent-minded move of protection.

Her eyes remained at the floor until the screaming stopped. Olivia had webbed Carnage’s mouth shut, and kicked it in the throat, successfully forcing it to release Venom. However Elisa knew that if Carnage was cannibalistic, even one injury from it would completely wipe out Venom and Elisa for days. Olivia kept moving fast, using her flexibility to weave the webs in a way that restrained Carnage while remaining unpredictable.

Olivia’s odds were getting better, until it all dropped at once along with the hearts of every Widow watching.

Carnage broke through the webbing. When the drone finally caught a glimpse of the outcome, every Widow braced for the worst. Olivia had been caught, and she wasn’t moving. When Carnage released it’s claws from around her neck, she just dropped. The Widows all froze in complete terror.

Clara Kassidy and Carnage had claimed the life of another Widow.

Elisa’s breathing was becoming more and more uncontrollable, and Venom was in complete disarray. It was like they were new to bonding all over again, both of them losing control of the symbiosis they balanced every day. The room began to spin and Elisa lost balance.

She could tell someone was trying to get her attention, but she brushed off their hands and just started walking away. She had to get her and Venom back together, but her heartbeat and lungs were overwhelmed without her permission, and all of her nerves went cold, even as her exhausted muscles continued pushing her forward as she sprinted, and she didn’t know where she would end up, but if it was away from her own skin, it would be far enough.

Whoever had been trying to get her attention followed her, and when they made another attempt to stop her and calm her down, Elisa jumped back away from who she eventually processed as Miguel, and they had managed to walk right out the front door, and were now in the courtyard in front of the building, beneath the city lights of Nueva York.

“Relàjate. Yo tambien estoy asustado, Elisa.” His voice was soft, not annoyed or tired, just delicate with her and desperate for her to listen like he had no idea how to speak to her. This time, when he told her, she did as he said, calming down as Miguel set her steady by holding her shoulders. Her breathing was still erratic, but it was manageable now, and her heart still rushed, but it wasn’t painful anymore.

“Miguel…” Elisa’s voice shook. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Elisa, please just-” He was losing her, and her heart rate began to pick up again as Venom was unsettled again.

“She was smart and strong, and if she’s gone, then I’m next, and I can’t-” Miguel just cut her off by pulling her close and falling to the ground with her. She was finally pulled from her panic as she realized Miguel was shaking too.

"Relàjate. Yo tambien estoy asustado, Elisa." He told her again, but Elisa finally realized what he was saying to her.

"Relax. I'm scared too, Elisa."

Elisa just let herself cry out there with him. Both she and Venom hated crying in front of another person, but it was far beyond either of their control by now. Not only was she terrified for her own survival, but Olivia was someone she had only just begun to know, and her life was now just gone.

"Taken from her." Venom spat from within.

They stayed like that for a moment. It was quieter than she expected. The sounds of a busy city were far off in the distance and low beneath the ground. Elisa and Venom slowly became in tune again, able to use Miguel's comfort as an anchor to reality.

Miguel eventually, reluctantly, opened his arms as Elisa released him.

"We should go check on the Widows." Elisa suggested. Miguel silently nodded and let her help him up and lead him back to the observatory.

The Widows hadn't dispersed. They all stood in a circle surrounding one Widow. Elisa had read that the first Widow to be found by the Spider Society had been Maxine Catch, but she had died in the first Carnage attack. Kat Marco was the second, and it seems to have been her duty to activate the portal to retrieve Olivia's watch so it didn't go unaccounted for. They all turned to Elisa, maskless, holding varying expressions of concern, sadness, or terror.

An overwhelming reality was coming over the room as everyone knew what this meant.

"We're next."

[zoya-withthepoodlesalready]

who gave "drivers license" permission to be so java junkie-coded?

[luscious-coptic-curls]

The way Major looks at Liv in s3e3 🥺

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Liv&Major (IZombie) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick Lamar. The first fucking Hip-Hop Pulitzer recipient. Classic literature, English Majors, Musicians, and Fans have been dissecting his albums, wordplay, entendres and meaning since Section.80. To Pimp a Butterfly has been repeatedly said by critics of all musical genres that it was the album of the 2010's. On a personal level, possibly the best rapper of this generation also openly spoke about his transphobia and how he outgrew it in Auntie Diaries. Kendrick Lamar is a man that is quite clearly obsessed with religion, and willingly puts that aside to show love for his trans uncle and cousin.

Was there any fucking question that Kendrick Lamar would have destroyed Drake? Not beat him in a rap beef—but break him down piece by piece.

This is ten years of resentment, disgust, frustration and hatred that finally has the chance to reveal itself.

The repercussions of this feud might not happen until years later, because if what Kendrick said is true (and given the fact that so many people have said it as well, I am inclined to believe in its viability), Drake might end up in prison. OvO might be torn down from its foundations.

And I want that. I hate Drake. I hate Drake's fans. They've always been sexist, homophobic, toxic pieces of shit who fully buy into the narrative that Drake spins about women. Materialistic beyond belief. And Drake's songs? Empty. Vapid.

I'm sorry, but I refuse to place Drake as a "Pop" Artist. Don't insult Beyoncé, Britney, Kate Bush, Lana, Olivia Rodrigo, Bruno Mars, and so many more.

Look at Lil Nas X. He's a pop rap artist and he accepts it. He elevates it. Pop is a just as valid a genre as the rest, and Drake is undeserving of it because his "house" music puts people to sleep.

I hope Drake's son realizes how much of a scumbag he is. I hope Drake's supposed daughter frees herself of him. I hope Drake's memory and legacy is forgotten and invalidated.

Drake makes ass music. He's a shit person. Megan said it. Pusha T said it. So many people have said it. Kendrick's just the most venomous in the long line of Drake haters.

[wandascosmic]

enough for you

wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: in which your girlfriend natasha makes you feel like you're never enough. (based off enough for you by olivia rodrigo)

word count: 2069

tags: angst, toxic relationship, insecurity, arguments, cheating, reader feels unloved (and unworthy of love), poor reader can never catch a break, cryptic mention of reader's mother being dead, self- hatred, reader's so sad, nat sucks (like a lot), but wanda comes through at the end like she always does and they have a little meet-cute :), i wrote this in one sitting while listening to enough for you on a loop

part two: so american

You sigh as you try to do your makeup in your mirror as flawlessly as possible. Every blemish or mark on your face needed to be covered up so you could look perfect for Nat. You were desperate to measure up to the gorgeous women Nat has dated before you and for that, you needed to look absolutely pristine.

In the past year, you’ve done so many new things you weren’t fond of just for Nat to like you. From nearly destroying every single muscle in your body at the gym just to measure up to her rigorous exercise routine, all the way to learning how to cook and bake every single one of her favorite foods until it was all you two ever ate despite your dislike for the majority of her preferred meals, you’ve tried so hard to be everything that Nat liked so she wouldn’t get sick of you. 

You frown slightly, Nat has never once acknowledged your kind gestures and actions, nor reciprocated them. 

“I’m just not the compliment type, Y/N, just drop it,” she had told you one time when you had confronted her on why she never acknowledged your efforts. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded wordlessly. 

***

“I made you your coffee,” you told Nat as she entered the kitchen in the morning. 2 creams, no sugar, just how you like it. 

Nat nodded and took the mug from you, sitting down at the table and barely paying any attention to your gesture. 

Clearing your throat, you tell her, “I also got up early this morning to buy tickets for us to go to that band I know you’ve been wanting to go to for a while.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping for her to tell you you’re good enough for her just this once. 

“Sorry, babe, Carol already got them for me,” she responds, your heart falling to your stomach. Putting her empty mug in the sink, she plants a kiss on your lips. “Besides, you don’t even know the lyrics to their songs.” She leaves you on your own in the kitchen. 

I know all of them by heart because of you. 

***

“Hey, Y/N?” Nat asks you one night on the couch. 

“Yeah?” you respond, turning to face your girlfriend. 

“I don’t really feel like myself these days.” Nat pauses. “Do you know what might help?” Despite the content of her question, you still smile, because this was your chance. This was your chance to show her that you might truly be worth loving. 

“First, I’m always here if you need to talk,” you say softly, but Nat makes no sound of acknowledgment next to you. “And second, make your own decisions you believe will be beneficial to you, just for yourself, and do the things that bring you fulfillment,” you explain. 

Nat finally turns and looks at you thoughtfully. “How did you figure that one out?” 

“I read your self-help books,” you reply sheepishly. I read all of them. 

“Wow, you’re pretty smart,” Nat replies, going back to the movie the two of you were watching together. 

And you smile for the rest of the night because that’s the first compliment Nat has given you since you first started dating a year ago. 

***

You and Nat had a fight. It isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time it’s hurt you this much as you truly take in your current reality. 

You’re crying in your shared room, Nat leaving you to go out for drinks you assume. 

Earlier tonight, you made the stupid mistake of asking why she was never there for you, it was during the heat of the moment, but your outrage felt justified due to the fact that she missed your award ceremony for your article in medical research (the third time this year she’s missed one of them but you did your best to forgive her before this), and she had simply scoffed at you telling you that it wasn’t even a big deal anyways. 

But this one was a big deal to you. 

It was research that could have saved your mother. 

“I nearly get killed every time I go out on the job, Y/N! Some stupid neuroscience article is nothing compared to that!” she yelled at you, exhausted from her day at work. 

Your eyes flooded with hurt as Nat’s filled with regret. 

“Wait, I’m sorry,” she said remorsefully. 

The first sign of remorse she’s ever shown you. 

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reply, trying to keep your tears at bay. You weren’t even in neuro, but that didn’t matter. Not to her. “Just go out, like you wanted.” You wave her off to go upstairs to your room. 

“Y/N, wait-” 

You didn’t listen, shutting the door before collapsing to your knees as you started to sob. 

Stupid, emotional, and obsessive. That was what you were. 

***

Nat has been home late for the past few nights, your worry increasing with each passing day. It’s probably something to do with work, but something feels off. 

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she enters the front door. “I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I just got held up at work,” Nat doesn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Oh, okay,” you say softly, feeling oddly small compared to your girlfriend. “Couldn’t you have called?” 

“For god’s sake, Y/N, my phone was dead. God, you’re so clingy,” Nat bites back, walking past you to go straight up to your room and slamming the door. 

You sigh, heading for the guest room since you know Nat won’t let you sleep next to her tonight. 

Suddenly, you hear Nat’s phone go off. And you realize that she had left it by the front door. 

Picking it up, you notice, that it’s at nearly full charge. 

Your brows furrow as you see the message your girlfriend received. 

Carol: Had a great time tonight, Nat. 

You don’t stop crying until the sun rises, one phrase ringing through your head the whole night. 

What are you doing wrong? 

***

“Am I not as interesting as the girls she’s dated before me?” you cry to Yelena as she rubs your back in comfort. 

“My sister is an idiot,” Yelena mutters, seeing how your relationship with Nat is tearing you apart. 

“What?” you choke out through your tears. 

“I think you love her more than anyone she’s ever had, and she couldn’t care less.” 

“She’s breaking my heart, Lena,” you sniffle. “But more than that, she’s breaking me.” 

You cry harder into your best friend’s arms.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” you sob into her shoulder.  

***

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she comes home past midnight once again. 

“I was at the compound, we had a villain that got out so we had to take care of him.” 

You nod, but Tony already sent you the camera footage for tonight after you told him about your issues with your girlfriend and you know she was with Carol. 

“Are you sure?” you inquired. 

“Yes, Y/N,” Nat says exasperated. “For god’s sake, why are you never satisfied with whatever I do?” she says walking past you. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you tell Nat from behind her. 

“What?” she says, turning around to face you. 

“You’re never satisfied with me,” you state. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to be good enough for you, but nothing I ever do for you seems to make you happy.” 

Nat scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“I know you were with Carol tonight,” you reveal. 

“No, I wasn’t,” she denies. 

“Tony sent me the footage, I know there was no villain. I know you’re cheating on me, and I know that you never cared about me,” you state. 

“Fine, whatever, I’m going to bed,” Nat says, completely disregarding you and everything she’s done to destroy the person you once were. 

“We’re done, Nat,” you tell her as she walks up the stairs to your once-shared room. 

Nat waves you off like you’ve never meant anything to her. 

And maybe you never did. 

***

“I loved her so much, I still do, and all she did was use me, then throw me away like I meant nothing to her,” you tell Yelena at the drink bar. Nat was away on a mission, so Yelena thought it might be fun for you to join her at one of the Avengers parties. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Yelena tells you. “I could tell her to apologize to you, but clearly she’s got some issues to figure out within herself before she can resolve any outside.” 

You nod wordlessly. 

What Yelena says then surprises you, “But honestly? She should be the one feeling sorry for herself.” You look at her curiously. “Someday, there will be someone out there who will love you as deeply as you love them.” 

“I don’t know, Lena,” you say softly. “Nat was everything to me.” 

“Someday, Y/N, you’ll be everything to somebody else.” 

***

1 year later

You’re running late for work, rushing out the door of the coffee shop, and you don’t notice the fact that you’ve bumped into someone until your coffee spills all over the floor, making you gasp. 

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” you tell the figure in front of you, and suddenly you freeze, at the sight of her glimmering emerald green eyes. Like Nat’s, but eternally softer. Eternally more curious. 

“Oh, no worries,” she says with a smile, pulling a few napkins out of her purse. 

“I didn’t spill any on you, did I?” you ask the woman, your mind a mess due to your embarrassment at spilling your coffee, but still quite fuzzy at the sight of her undeniable beauty. 

If you weren’t so much of a useless homosexual, you would bend down and help her clean the coffee she’s currently wiping away. Much like how she’s wiping away your ability to form any sort of cohesive thought. 

“No, I’m ok,” she laughs, standing up once more once all the coffee’s gone. “C’mon, let me buy you a new one.” 

Your eyes widen. “Oh, no, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s completely my fault for bumping into you-” 

“I want to,” she cuts off with a soft smile. 

“Oh,” you say softly. “Okay,” you finally resign to the comforting look she gives you.  

“Let me just make a quick phone call,” you let her know, hoping she doesn’t leave. 

“Take your time,” she assures. 

You smile gratefully. 

Your phone call was to call in sick to work for the second time in your life –you didn’t have a busy day today and you were running late anyways– and it was all to spend time with a pretty girl.  

On any other day you’d probably laugh at how pathetic you were, but this woman made you feel an odd sense of uncertainty within your life. 

Like nothing had ever made sense before her. 

Once you hang up the phone, you turn to see the woman already standing there, a white to-go coffee cup with a bit of steam escaping the spout. 

“Here’s your coffee,” the woman hands you the cup with a big smile as you pocket your phone. You inspect the label, your mouth parting slightly in shock once you see all of your preferred customizations. Done perfectly. 

“How do you know my coffee order?” you ask. 

“I took the label off the old one,” she says, showing you the sticker in the palm of her hand. “Want to sit?” She points to the array of round tables within the cafe.  

“I don’t even know you,” you say slowly. I called in sick to work for you, it’s a little too late for that. 

The brunette woman laughs before holding out her hand for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Wanda,” she says. 

“Y/N,” you respond, shaking her outstretched hand as your face flushes slightly at its softness. 

“See? Now we know each other,” Wanda says cheekily. 

You nod with a shy smile, following her to the table in the back as the two of you settle down into a small conversation. 

Somehow, the two of you spend the rest of the day talking and laughing, and you think it might be the best day of your life. 

Little do you know, Wanda thinks so too.

part two: so american

[theostrophywife]

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Until that one fateful fall morning. 

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center. 

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 

“You know my name?” 

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 

“Yeah, because she likes you.” 

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 

“Whatever you say, peach.” 

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 

“Thanks, Pans.” 

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 

“Like I said, we’re friends.” 

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 

“Knock yourself out, mate.” 

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.” 

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 

“You alright there, peach?” 

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 

“I am a bloody idiot.” 

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 

“Scary?” 

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 

“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 

“Not so scary now, am I?” 

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

[totalswag]

okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream

attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON

authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.

warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut

Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.

"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.

Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.

One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.

You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.

If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.

The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.

A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.

"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.

Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."

You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.

Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.

He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.

Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.

"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.

The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.

"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.

You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.

You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.

"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.

Who do these girls think they are? You think.

Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.

"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.

Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.

"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.

"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.

Your blood was boiling.

The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.

Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.

These bitches sound dumb.

You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.

She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.

The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.

You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.

"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.

After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.

Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.

Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.

"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.

The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.

Others around started laughing.

Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.

Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.

When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.

Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.

"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.

The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.

"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.

Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.

"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.

When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.

"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.

You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.

You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.

"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.

"I'm all yours."

my taglist

if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know either in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line on your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @kaydr3venge

[piastree]

Is It Over Now? | LN4

lando norris x reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)

— Part 4

Previous Part | Next Part

Summary: As Lando's life goes on, so does Y/N's life. But has she finally found someone new? She is always afraid to compare her new relationship with her previous relationship because she knows that deep down she is not completely over him.

yourbff

Liked by louisfoster, yourusername and 8,412 others

yourbff Fun times with my ride-or-die🎉🙌

view comments

user y'all are giving me major friendship envy

yourusername partner in crime😈

user both of them living their best life

louisfoster absolutely stunning

yourbff it's not usual but thankyou very much

louisfoster not your but y/n

yourusername oh hi louis! thankyou😂

yourbff shame on you

f1wagsupdate

Liked by user, user, user and 21,444 others

f1wagsupdate spotted luisa and lando enjoying their holiday. The couple was seen hanging out with friends and enjoying watersports.

view comments

user such a stunning couple! Their smiles are contagious

user living their best life❤️

user they're definitely the definition of a sexy and hot couple

user nothing change lando norris who loves to fuck around

user get a life

user what's wrong with get a new love life? touch some grass

user at this point everything he did is wrong

user do you get the deja vu

landonorris added a story

yourusername

yourusername

Liked by louisfoster, yourbff and 20,190 others

yourusername life lately

view comments

user oh y/n with her new boyfriend?

user i guess y/n is moving on too

user yeah life must go on

user look at the pretty girl over there

louisfoster thankyou for laughing at me

yourusername no worries😛

yourbff 🤭🤭

landonorris added a story

notes: i was planning to do a double update, but turns out there's something i need to revise. Hopefully, you'll still wait and enjoy the story<3

taglist: @c-losur3 @tania2748 @starz4me1 @celestialend @booksandflowrs @xlinxdax0704 @jule239 @amberpanda99 @sanctify-mp3 @alltoomaples @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @jehun @d3kstar@lottef1 @m4neaterrrr @sassyheroneckgiant @saachiep81 @evie-119 @nhlfs @hiireadstuff @littlexscarletxwitch @xjval @softtina @loaves4me @e-nonsense @ogfangirl @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ironmaiden1313 @landorris @norwayxo @saachiep81 @val-writes @sunny44 @maplesyrupsainz @moonyzsworld @callsignwidow @scopeiguess @chezmardybum @neodeliightt @imsiriuslyreal

[huramuna]

stoatfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in. 

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a stoat, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 

And so it shall be. 

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

[hwangism143]

love is embarrassing

synopsis: in which chan shows you that love is so much more than what you believe.

pairing: idol!chan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: jealousy, mentions of eating and rain, suggestive if you squint, small injuries, death of a pet

word count: 852 words

now playing: love is embarrassing - olivia rodrigo

requested: by @15092000volcano (have your own requests? find the prompt list here)

a/n: berry is very much alive, i just had to kill her off for plot purposes (pls don't kill me). also, lmk what you think of this fic!

"my god, love's embarrassing as hell"

You always believed the endeavor of love to be pointless. You had read the classics and watched the movies, distrust seeping into your being. How could love be worth it? How could love be worth death and sacrifice; how could it be worth endless pain and optionally putting oneself through torture?

It wasn't like love was helping pay the bills. Romeo and Juliet wasn't a tragedy due to romance in your eyes, it was a tragedy brought forth by lack of common sense, as simple as that.

That was when a young, elementary school you had finally come up with a hypothesis that would stick around with you longer than you anticipated: love is embarrassing.

And yet, you can never prove a hypothesis without putting it through a test. When you finally did, you realized that love is a startling multitude of other things.

Love is temperamental, like your mood the day you walked out of the movie after yet another rom com your friend had dragged you to watch. It's temperance mimicked that of the weather, rain beating down against the windows of the café that you were stuck in, where a handsome stranger was your lone companion.

"Hi," he said sweetly, "I'm Chan. Need some company?"

Love was ugly, like your tears that flowed down your cheeks and dampened Chan's favorite black hoodie (which you never understood the differentiation behind, a majority of his articles being black). It was ugly like the sweaters Chan had brought your first Christmas together, the same ones you wore when he purposefully dangled a mistletoe over where the two of you stood.

"Where did you even find mistletoe?" you questioned with a laugh.

"I have my sources. Stick around with me long enough and I'll promise to tell you." His lips were soon on yours, sealing the deal.

Love was disgusting, your siblings pretending to gag whenever Chan ran to you and scooped you up from behind, causing an eruption of giggles to emerge from your mouth. It was almost as disgusting as the ramen you once made, giving both of you food poisoning that was no less then unfound agony.

"There is no one else I would rather be vomiting with," Chan declared boldly, as he held your hair while you heaved the contents of your stomach onto the toilet.

Love was green, the way Chan felt after he watched you hit it off with Jisung and Changbin when he invited you to the studio, nearly forgetting about him. It's green like the lettuce you picked when you both went to the grocery store right after, deciding to confront his despaired pout.

"You're jealous."

"Am not!"

"You are jealous, and may I add, you're a terrible liar."

But love was so many things coated in happiness too, right? It wasn't just the bad parts, skipped over in the dictionary and considered as profanity. It was words that made you feel like your were flying in an abyss of harmony.

Love was soft, the way Chan's apologies sounded after an argument, always apologizing first instead of chastising you for your headstrong personality. It smoothed out rough edges, the way you ran your hair through Chan's hair while he fell asleep on your shoulder.

"I love you more than you ever know," he would mumble sleepily into your neck.

Love is healing, the way Chan was when you held him as he grieved over the loss of his childhood pet but slowly picked up the pieces of himself. The small cuts and bruises that you would get from simply doing nothing and the gentle press of a band aid against your skin and Chan tended to you almost instantaneously.

"It's just a tiny cut Chan," you whined.

"Aw come on, let me pamper you," he replied.

Love is comforting, like Chan's sweaters that you wore when you stepped out of the house, his essence melting into yours. It's comfort wove into the silence that hung around you both, never awkward or unwelcoming.

"Is it weird that my favorite sound is you, even when you're quiet?" Chan asked curiously.

"Never," you told him with a laugh.

Love was passionate, the way Chan felt about music and you felt about him. The same passion translated into wandering hands and soft gasps, stolen kisses and rumpled sheets.

"Thank you for loving me," you confessed as his limbs were tangled with yours.

"Thank you for letting me love you," he replied as easily as possible.

Love to you, was an anomaly. But loving Chan and being loved by him showed you that it was the most vivid, chaotic and marvelous tapestry that one could witness in their lifetime. Love was ugly, love was beautiful. Love was disgusting, love was comforting.

Love was damning. Love was everything.

However, you knew one fact about your love that would never change, despite how multifaceted it could be. That one fact was as sure as Chan's encouraging smiles that he sent your way and as steady as his breathing when he laid beside you at night.

Your love would always belong to him.

main taglist (reply to be added):

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee @lastgreatamericandynasty1

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Liv&Major (IZombie) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hey could I get an Angsty fic with wife Olivia Benson/Emily Prentiss (which ever you want) where the reader is a detective/profiler and gets hurt badly and Emily/olivia are the ones to find them and they have to keep them awake until the paramedics get there?

You can pick the injury

Hey @yanginginthere! 😊 It's been a minute since I wrote for Olivia, so that's what I did here! Hope you enjoy! –illdowhatiwantthanks

Eyes Open

Olivia Benson x fem!reader Warnings: MAJOR BIG HUGE WARNINGS for gun violence/school shootings, blood, death, etc., medical emergencies, near-death situation, hospitals, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.0k

Summary: When the rest of the squad is hesitant to enter the scene of a school shooting, you make one of the rashest decisions of your life--one you might not come back from. Your wife, Olivia, races to get to you in time.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you thought as you watched blood pour from your abdomen. You were on the ground before you knew what was happening, before you could evaluate the situation. You pressed your hands over the gunshot wound, trying not to think about how much blood was seeping between your fingers.

You glanced around the room, panicked, nearly sick to your stomach. The racetrack rug, the little cubbies, the bodies. You wretched and vomited before collapsing onto your back. Your partner, Mendoza, lay on the opposite side of the room, pale, wide-eyed, still. Dead. He was dead. You swallowed back tears. Now was not the time to cry.

The shooter’s blood had sprayed across the bookshelves when you shot him. You couldn’t get close enough to feel for a pulse, but he wasn’t moving. So he was at least incapacitated. What you needed was to call for backup, to get the rest of the cowards from the NYPD–the ones who sat outside to wait for backup while you could hear children screaming–to get their asses in here and help. You and Mendoza had gone in against orders, had ignored a direct command from a superior officer to wait for backup. And, god knows, you’d both paid for it, but if even one child made it out that wouldn’t have otherwise, it would be worth it.

You felt for your radio at your side and groaned when you realized it had been shot by the same bullet that was now lodged inside of you. Your vision was starting to grow fuzzy; it was only a matter of time until you passed out. And who knew how long until backup finally decided to enter the elementary school?

You heard movement and jerked your head to the side to see the very top of a small head poking out from the supply closet.

“Hey!” you shouted, crying out in relief. The child shrank back, and you called, “No, no, no, it’s okay! It’s okay. I know it’s scary. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you. That man with the gun, he can’t hurt you anymore. But I need your help. Do you think you could come out here and help me?”

The boy poked his head out again, a little bit farther, and you could see that his face was tear-stained, covered in snot. Your heart broke for him. You wanted to cry. You hated to traumatize him further, but you also knew that if you didn’t get backup and EMTs in here as soon as possible, more people were going to lose their lives–including you.

“Hi, honey,” you said as he stared at you, wide-eyed. “My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

He sucked in a breath, then shakily replied, “Arturo.”

You nodded. “Arturo. That’s a nice name. You’re being really brave, sweetheart. Is there anyone else in there with you?”

He nodded his head.

“How many people?”

Arturo held up five fingers.

“Five?” you asked, trying to focus your eyes.

He nodded.

“Are there any grown-ups?”

His face screwed up, like he was about to cry, and he shook his head.

“Okay, honey. That’s okay. Listen. Arturo, we need to call for help so the other police officers and the ambulance drivers can get in here and help everybody. Okay?”

He didn’t respond. You pointed to your busted radio. “My walkie talkie broke, but my partner’s should still work. He’s right over there… just–” You shuddered. God, you were having a child grab a device from a dead body. This poor kid. All these poor kids. But you didn’t know what else to do. “Just don’t look at his face or anything,” you told him. “The walkie talkie on his belt, that’s what we need. Can you do that for me, Arturo?”

He shook as he stood, and you could tell he’d wet himself in fear. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched him wobble toward Mendoza’s body. “You’ve already been so brave, buddy, I just need you to be brave a little bit longer.”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to fight the dizziness that swam inside your head.

“It’s stuck,” Arturo whimpered, and you snapped your eyes open.

“Okay, buddy,” you said, wracking your brain for a solution. “That’s alright. Umm… there’s a little button on the side, do you see that?”

Arturo nodded, his fingers wet with Mendoza’s blood.

“Alright, just press the button and hold it down, and then repeat what I say. Okay, Arturo?”

“Okay,” he whimpered, holding his little hand against the radio.

You exhaled sharply, as the pain in your abdomen surged. “Say, This is Officer Y/L/N.”

He repeated it, looking at you with wide, scared eyes.

“Badge number 11227.”

You gulped as your vision blurred, trying to be as concise as possible.

“Shooter is down. Officers down. Requesting immediate backup and medical assistance.”

You could feel your body falling out of consciousness, could hear Arturo talking to the other officers through the radio, but it was far away, as if you were in a tunnel.

“Please help,” he cried, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “She’s not talking anymore.”

The last thought you had before blacking out was that your wife would kill you if you died.

“Clear!” Olivia shouted, moving from classroom to classroom at PS 717, gun at the ready. The rest of the officers stopped as needed to help evacuate children and school staff, to give first aid as needed, but she and Elliot were single-minded. They had one job, and she had insisted it be theirs as the NYPD prepared to enter the scene: find the shooter and confirm that he was down.

The last person they had heard from was you. Well, a little boy who had your name and badge number and said all the right things and, therefore, was presumably with you. She was furious with you, furious that you’d gone in without backup, furious that you were so goddamned good and brave, that you would be willing to sacrifice your life for these kids, even though it was one of the things she loved most about you. And, truthfully, underneath all that fury was just plain fear. Absolute terror. Where were you?! Obviously you were hurt if you couldn’t call in yourself. And, from the sound of it, it had been you who took down the shooter.

“Liv!” Elliot yelled from a classroom down, and she sprinted toward him, her heart in her throat. Elliot was already on the radio: “We need medical here stat! East wing of the school, fourth classroom on the right. We’ve got two officers down, shooter down, multiple civilian casualties.”

Olivia burst into the classroom, her eyes quickly taking in the damage: Mendoza down, shooter down, kids crying in the corner, civilians down, and you. Her heart was in her throat as she holstered her gun and dropped to your side.

“No, no, no, baby,” she cried, cradling your limp head and feeling for a pulse. “Stay with me, sweetheart. You are too damn stubborn to go out like this.” Your pulse was thready and weak, as was your breath. She brushed your hair out of your face, trying hard to keep herself breathing, to not fall apart, not yet. She smacked you lightly on the face until you coughed and blinked your eyes open.

Olivia let out a sob of relief and caressed your face, pressing her free hand on top of yours to stifle your bleeding.

“Liv?” you groaned. Then weakly pointed in the direction of the shooter. “Is he…”

“He’s down, baby, he’s dead. You got him.”

You coughed again and winced, your body shaking with cold or trauma or both. “Arturo?” you asked, glancing around for him.

“The little boy?” she clarified. You nodded. “He’s safe, he’s okay. He’s with Elliot.”

Your body started to shake more violently and it was if, finally, the terror of the day had caught up with you. Tears streamed down your face. Your skin was clammy and your breath came in short huffs. You weren’t stupid. You knew what they meant, all the signs in your body: hypovolemic shock. You’d lost too much blood. You were dying.

You’d like to say that, in what you assumed were your dying moments, your life flashed before your eyes, that you thought of everything you’d experienced and everything you’d not yet been able to. But, honestly, you were just scared. And sad to leave Olivia.

“I love you,” you choked out as your eyelids fluttered between open and shut.

“No, no,” Olivia protested, grasping your face in her hands. “Don’t you fucking say goodbye to me, Y/N. This is not fucking goodbye! You keep your eyes open, Officer. That’s a direct order!”

And you really did try. You really did fight to keep Olivia’s face in front of you, her terrified, tear-stained face. You just couldn’t bear to leave her, not like this.

When you finally lost consciousness, Olivia yelling your name was the last thing you heard.

You woke up god knows how much later in a hospital bed, with several wires attached to you and an ungodly amount of pain in your abdomen, not to mention a mouth so dry it felt like your tongue had been left to dehydrate.

Before you knew what was happening, Olivia’s lips were on yours, her hands grasping the side of your face so tightly you thought there was a good chance she might never let you go.

“You fucking asshole,” she cried, her tears wet against your skin. “You almost died!”

She kissed you a few more times for good measure, then leaned back to look at you, your own tears streaming now. She sniffled and wiped your eyes, smiling even as she cried. “Why do you have to be so goddamned brave, huh?”

You shrugged, then winced. “No, no, don’t move!” she exclaimed. “Just… let yourself rest, okay?” She shook her head. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you croaked out. You blinked tears away and looked at the ceiling, trying hard to banish the mental images of Mendoza, of the blood, of the civilians. “I just… I couldn’t…”

“I know,” she said, taking your hand. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

You coughed and frowned at her. “You better fucking not.”

She pointed to the table next to your hospital bed, stacked with cards and flowers. “You’ve got quite a lot of fans now.”

You shook your head. You didn’t deserve fans. If anyone deserved the recognition, it was Mendoza. You tried not to think of him, knew you’d start crying if you did.

“Here,” Olivia said, holding out a folded sheet of paper. “Read this one. It’s good.”

There was a stick-figure drawing of you as a superhero and a messy, misspelled note:

Dear Ofiser Y/L/N, thak you so much for helpig me be brav and for gettig the bad gy. Yor my heero. Arturo Guerrero.

Your eyes were swimming by the time you finished reading it. You should be the one thanking him.

“The NYPD’s giving you a Medal of Honor, too, when you’re well enough. You’re a hero, honey,” Olivia said, tracing your cheekbone with her thumb. “A dumb, brave idiot of a hero. But my hero, all the same.”

You didn’t know how you felt about this hero business, didn’t feel like you deserved it. You’d just done your job. And your job required a bit more of you this time around.

“Liv,” you ventured, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “A hero?”

You nodded.

“What should we call you then?”

You smiled wryly. “Just Y/N.”

Olivia leaned forward to brush your hair out of your face, staring lovingly at you. “How about love of my life?”

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. That’ll do.”

[theostrophywife]

SWEET TOOTH

home | writing | inbox

🤍 pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: so american by olivia rodrigo.

🤍 author’s note: just a cute and fluffy little piece because enzo gives off major boyfriend vibes.

It was a well-known fact that Lorenzo Berkshire had a terrible sweet tooth. 

So well known that his mates often hid their stash of sweets from him. Not that it deterred Enzo. If anything, he saw it as a challenge of sorts. 

As Lorenzo ransacked his roommate’s belongings, it should’ve occurred to him that Regulus was far too clever to leave his candy in plain sight, but his attention was focused solely on stuffing as many chocolate frogs into his mouth before his surly friend returned. In his haste, Enzo failed to notice the strange metallic taste until practically inhaling his third frog. 

Still, he figured that it was probably fine. How much damage could a chocolate frog do anyways?

Unfortunately for Lorenzo, that pesky little question would be answered soon enough. 

After carefully rearranging Reggie’s things, Enzo happily skipped off to breakfast. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spotted you in the Great Hall. With a murderous expression, you swiped a chocolate croissant out of Mattheo’s reach and glared at the curly headed boy. 

“Make one more move towards my food and I’ll snap your arm like a twig, Riddle.” 

Theo snickered and draped an arm over your shoulder. “Come on, bella. Mattheo just wants a taste.” The twat wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And so do I.” 

You flicked his arm off and rolled your eyes. “For the last time, I’d rather gouge my eyes out, Theodore. You’d think you’d be sick of rejection and embarrassment by now.” 

Nott merely smirked. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Could’ve woken up in mine instead, if you stopped playing hard to get.” 

“Keep pissing me off and you’ll wake up to a bed full of cockroaches.” 

Mattheo cackled before ruffling your hair. “Turn that frown upside down, Y/N. Guys don’t like a grump.” 

“I do,” Enzo blurted before he could think better of it. “I think Y/N’s cute when she’s mean. Especially to you two idiots.” 

Theo and Mattheo gaped, their gazes pinballing from you to Enzo. They were no doubt expecting you to smack your best friend upside the head, but instead you shrugged and bit back a smile. 

“Really?” Theo remarked incredulously. “You’re letting that slide? You threatened to tie my tongue into a bow the last time I called you cute.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yeah, well, Berkshire doesn’t annoy me as much as you do.” 

Enzo beamed as he slid into the seat beside you. “Wow, I feel special.” 

Clearly, he was well aware of the sweet spot you had for him. Though you’d never admit it. Just like he’d never admit his long standing pathetic little crush he had on you. Except, he did sort of slip up just now, which he unfortunately would continue to do for the rest of the day. 

Lorenzo couldn’t help it. The compliments he normally kept to himself just kept spilling out of him. 

When you were studying in the library during free period, he found himself speaking thoughts that he usually saved for his inner monologue. “I like the way you scrunch your nose when you read. It’s adorable.” 

Surprised, you peered up at him from your book. His words were rewarded by an uncharacteristically shy smile. It was enough to make him momentarily forget his lack of control over his mouth.

Later in History of Magic, Lorenzo stared at you instead of focusing on completing the assignment in front of him. You tapped his nose with the end of your quill playfully. 

“You alright there, Enz?” 

“You’re so beautiful, it’s distracting. I can’t even focus on my notes.” 

You flushed in response and Enzo found that he rather liked making you flustered for a change. Maybe a case of loose lips wasn't so bad after all. 

During lunch, Lorenzo glared at Draco as the blonde asked you a question about the Draught of the Living Dead potion. 

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, cousin?” Draco asked after a moment. 

Enzo continued glaring at him and inched closer to you, draping a protective arm around your shoulder. “Look at Y/N like that again and I’ll turn you into a ferret myself.” 

The other boys snickered while Draco backed away from you. His brief stint as a rodent clearly traumatized him enough to balk at the threat. You turned away from the recounting of the infamous fourth year incident and faced Enzo. 

“Are you feeling alright, Enz? You’ve been acting strange all day.” 

Come to think of it, Lorenzo did feel a bit different. Unfiltered, unadulterated, and perhaps a tad bit unhinged. Oddly enough, it was freeing in a strange sort of way.

“I’m fine. I’m just saying what I’ve been thinking all along. Usually, I’m too scared to speak my thoughts out loud, but I’m not now.” Enzo scrunched his nose. “Also, the chocolate frogs I stole from Reg tasted kind of funny.” 

Before he knew it, you were marching right into the boy’s dormitory with him in tow. He shuffled hurriedly behind you as you yanked open the door to his dorm. Regulus lounged at his desk, flipping through the pages of his book and not bothering to look up as the two of you barged in. 

“Learned your lesson yet, Berkshire?” 

You frowned as you snatched the book out of Reggie’s hands and threw it over your shoulder. “What the hell did you do to him, Regulus?”

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly. “Slipped a bit of Veritaserum in my chocolate frogs because I knew the little weasel had been secretly stealing them behind my back.” 

“Hey!” Enzo exclaimed. “That’s rude.” 

“Is that why he’s acting so strange?” 

The youngest Black leveled an amused glance at you. “Define strange.”

“Well, he’s been complimenting me all day. He even threatened to turn Draco into a ferret for looking at me. It’s like he has no filter at all.” 

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point. Veritaserum makes you tell the truth.” 

You paused, taking in his words. “So everything Enzo said today…” Enzo smiled brightly as you glanced warily at him. “He means it?” 

Regulus nodded in confirmation. “Mhm, I’m afraid young Lorenzo has a little crush on you.” 

“Hello?” Enzo exclaimed. “I’m literally right here.” He turned to face you. “Also yes, I do have a crush on you. I have for ages. I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t noticed. I’m not that great at hiding it.” Your jaw dropped as he pivoted back to Regulus. “You’re a twat for dosing my candy, Reg.” 

“Your candy?” Regulus huffed. “I bought that with my hard earned money.” 

“You mean your allowance that mummy and daddy sends you every month? Please, Reg, you have more galleons and candy than you know what to do with. Honestly, it’s a bit selfish not to share.” 

Before you could put a stop to it, Regulus launched himself at Enzo. The boys wrestled, smacking and taunting each other like toddlers. With a frustrated sigh, you pried the two of them apart. 

“You two are honestly ridiculous.” 

Enzo pushed Regulus off of him and brushed off the front of his shirt. “Yes, but hopefully you find it cute and endearing, right? Well, me. Not Reg. I don’t really think you’re into the whole tortured poet thing he’s got going on.” 

Regulus glared at his friend. “Rude!” 

Enzo shrugged. “What? It’s true. Don’t worry, it works for some people. I think that redhead in Gryffindor likes you, but you’ve got to stop being so goddamn oblivious. She obviously wants you to break her back like a glow stick.”

“Lorenzo!” 

You smacked your best friend on the arm for his rather candid commentary, but it was half-hearted. You were too busy trying not to burst into laughter given the fact that he was completely correct. Said redhead definitely had a thing for Regulus. 

“I’m just stating facts. Anyways, if he didn’t want to hear it, he shouldn’t have dosed me.” 

You tugged Regulus by his tie. “You did this to him. Now you’re going to help me get this under control. Do you understand?” 

Regulus sighed in defeat. “Fine.” 

For the remainder of the day, you kept a close eye on Enzo. Though you and Regulus were both babysitting him, your best friend didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed rather thrilled with spending the rest of the day by your side. Truth be told, you didn’t mind either despite the fact that you had to pull Enzo out of a sticky situation more than once. 

As you watched him during quidditch practice, you nearly fell out of the stands when Lorenzo cocked his head at his captain and narrowed his eyes. “Flint, why is your head shaped like that?” 

It was by sheer luck that Regulus swooped in to save the day and promptly dragged him off to perform drills at the far end of the field. At the end of practice, you thought it would be safe to lounge in the common room, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Enzo snuggled to your side, his slightly damp hair tickling your neck. The familiar scent of citrus and cedar distracted you momentarily as he stared at Tom. The older Riddle was currently hustling Theo through a game of chess. 

“Tom, even though you scare me, I still think you’re hotter than Mattheo. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 

The entire room fell into a hush as Tom directed his smoldering gaze towards Enzo. You tensed beside him, fingers curled protectively around his arm. 

Finally, Tom spoke. “It’ll be our little secret, Berkshire.” 

“Salazar save us all.” 

When dinner rolled around, your fight or flight response was completely shot. Thanks to Enzo’s current condition, you were on constant alert. 

By now, the boys were perfectly aware of his inability to lie and the twats found his predicament particularly hilarious. All except Mattheo, whose ego had taken a hit after Theo told him all about Enzo’s confession to Tom. 

“I can’t believe you think Tom is hotter than me,” Mattheo grumbled. “That’s just completely mental.” 

Theo pinched his cheek. “Don’t worry, Matty. I’ll always think you’re hotter.” 

“How can you two flirt at a time like this?’ You sighed exasperatedly. “One of your best friends is under a truth spell and all you care about is being the hot brother?” Mattheo protested, but you held a hand up to halt whatever stupid remark he was itching to say. “Where is Regulus? I should wring his stupid neck for putting poor Enzo through this.” 

“I think he’s talking to that Gryffindor,” Theo said with an eyebrow wiggle. “Finally. Maybe dosing Berkshire wasn’t so bad if it gets Regulus laid.” 

As if on cue, Enzo snapped his fingers in front of Draco’s face. “Cousin, you really need to lay off the bleach. I think it’s seeping into your bloody brain. You’ve been staring at Granger so intently that it’s starting to freak her out.”

The boys snickered as Draco snapped out of his trance. Before the blonde could reprimand his cousin, you stood up and grabbed Enzo’s hand. Your best friend grinned as he linked your fingers through yours. 

“Oh, we’re holding hands. This is nice,” Enzo shuffled to his feet as you tugged him out of his seat. He didn’t seem to mind being dragged out of the Great Hall. “Hey, have I ever told you that your eyes remind me of the sunset? You’re pretty. I really want to kiss you.” 

You pointedly ignored the kissy faces Mattheo and Theo were making. “We’re leaving. Let’s go, Enz.” 

Enzo waved to your friends and grinned. “I hope we make out.” 

The boys snickered as you turned beet red. “Lorenzo!” 

“Yes, dear, coming!” 

With the promise of an impromptu movie night, you managed to coax Enzo back to his dorm. He shuffled in your lap, nuzzling into your touch as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Reg says the serum should wear off in an hour, so you just have to hold off until then.” 

“Oh,” Enzo said with a tinge of disappointment. “That’s a bummer. It’s kind of nice just saying whatever was on my mind.” 

“Enz, you told Theo he smelled like day old lasagna and then you hit on Tom. Tom!”

Enzo’s honey eyes blinked up at you. “What? He’s hot. You’re telling me you wouldn’t hit on him too?” 

You shook your head. “Psychopathic maniacs aren’t really my type.” 

“What’s your type then?” You fell silent for a beat before Enzo nudged your elbow with his nose. “C’mon, it’s only fair. I’ve been making a fool out of myself all day. Grant me this one, love.” 

You sighed, knowing that you’d cave to his puppy dog eyes. “I do have a crush on this one guy.” 

“What’s his name? Enzo asked as he sat upright. “His house? His dorm number? I might ask Tom to hunt him down for me.” You glared at him in response, causing him to raise his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Blame the serum.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “To answer your very nosy questions, he goes by a nickname, he’s in Slytherin, and we’re currently in his dorm.”

“Oh my god. The emo act worked on you, too?” Enzo smacked his forehead in distress. “For fuck’s sake!” 

“It’s you, you idiot. I like you.” 

Enzo beamed. “Thank Godric! This is the happiest day of my life.” He bounced as he talked, eyes shining brightly. . “Do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to Hogsmeade. Wait, no. That’s not good enough. Let’s go to London. Or Paris. Fuck it, I’ll borrow Malfoy’s jet.” 

You giggled at how ridiculously adorable this boy was. “Enz, slow down! First of all, I’d love to go on a date with you. Hogsmeade is perfectly fine, but we should probably wait until you’re back to normal.” 

Enzo sighed. “Fine. I suppose I can wait. But you’re staying to  cuddle, right?” He flashed those honey eyes at you again, perfectly aware that you couldn’t resist him even if you tried. To add to his plea, Enzo jutted his bottom lip into a pout. “Please?” 

“Sure, Enz.” 

With a triumphant grin, Enzo pulled you against him. He leaned forward to kiss your cheek, making you melt. As you continued watching the movie, you couldn’t help but revel in the affection Enzo showered you with. He was a great cuddler and he smelled nice and oh gods you really, really liked him. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Enzo murmured against your ear. “Mostly because I can’t, but I definitely have a boner right now.” 

“Lorenzo!” 

You burst into a fit of giggles, which caused Enzo to laugh as well. He only snuggled closer, burying his face into your neck. “Sorry that I find you super hot and pretty and cute. Honestly, I’m the victim in this situation.” 

You smacked his arm. “Oh my god, just shut up and cuddle.” 

Enzo grinned as he wrapped his arms around you. “Yes, honey.” 

[spenceragnewfics]

Can you do a fic where you're a crew/cast member and have been in a relationship with Spencer for a few years and he finally proposes? I'm thinking something cute where he proposes on set where the two of you first met after everyone has gone home for the day. Love your work btw!

I love this one so much!

I THINK I WANNA MARRY YOU | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

TW: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Description: When the four newest Smosh cast members are curious as to how Y/N and Spencer met. The story time turns into another heartwarming story.

People always say that you will know when you find the one. The person you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life. It’d be like a cool wind or just a relaxed feeling when you meet them.

That’s what Y/N thought back in 2016 when she was dating Kevin. He was a nice guy. He had a good job and was pretty attractive, but he was a major cheater. You see, Y/N found him multiple times with multiple different women after promising time and time again not to do it again.

During this time, she started working at a new company called Smosh as a cast member. Her job was to be funny but it was really hard with everything going on in her life at the time. Thankfully, she made many friends with Courtney, Shayne, Keith, and Olivia when she first started but one person stood out in particular. She remembers the day like it was yesterday.

“Court, I’m telling you. I don’t need someone right now. I’m enjoying being single.” She says, she had been at the company only a couple of weeks but was already very close to the blonde. “Please, Y/N/N! You know I can help. I know that Kevin was a bad experience but you can’t let that hang you up.” She looks at Courtney with a bored expression before her eyes move behind her to the editing area, someone catching her attention.

He has curly hair that is styled back with dark stubble that matches his hair color. His skin is light with some olive undertones. He’s focused on the video in front of him but Y/N’s breath is caught in her throat. “Hey, hey, girly, are you okay?” Courtney asks, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Yeah, yeah, just…Court…who is that.” She nods her head towards the man as her friend turns to look, “Oh, that’s Spencer. He’s one of our editors. You haven’t met him yet?” They ask, shocked that she still hasn’t met him. “Well he’s going to be helping with the shoot today, you two can be introduced then,” Courtney says, smirking to themself with a thought.

Later when Y/N, Courtney, Damien, and Keith are getting miced up, Spencer walks in with his head focused on something. “Spencer! Hey, can you come over here?” Shayne asks, in on the plan Courtney thought up. He walks over, his laptop under his arm with raised brows “What’s up, Shayne?” 

“Have you met Y/N yet? Our newest cast member?” Spencer looks over to see her chatting with Courtney, Damien, and Keith. Laughing at something Keith said and is taken aback. “N-No, I haven’t.” He stutters out. Shayne wraps an arm around Spencer’s shoulder, walking him over to the group.

“Y/N.” Shayne says and she turns, a big smile on her face that makes Spencer melt just looking at her. “What’s up?” She asks, looking at Shayne before her eyes widen when she sees Spencer. “I wanted to introduce you to Spencer. He’s one of our best editors here.” He pushes the man closer to her.

The two both look nervous, making their friends smile. It’s adorable. “N-Nice to meet you.” Spencer stutters out again, putting his hand out. She shakes it with a shy smile, “Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/N.”

“And that was how we met all those years ago. When you babies were still just babies.” Y/N says, cuddled into Spencer’s side as she talks to Chanse, Trevor, Angela, and Arasha about how the two met. “So you two have been sickeningly cute since you met? That’s not fair!” Chanse whines, making the couple laugh.

“Eh, I guess. We did have our rough patches though. We made it through, that’s all that matters.” Spencer says, kissing the top of Y/N’s head and she smiles. “Okay, okay, you two are making me sick. I’m going to get lunch. Who wants to join me?” Arasha asks, getting off the floor that the four were sitting on around the couple like it was story time.

“Me.” Trevor and Chanse say, following Arasha. “Wait, I wanna ask more questions!” Angela says while Chanse drags her with him. Y/N waves goodbye to the four, a loving smile on her face.

As the years have passed she has become a welcoming figure in the cast along with Courtney. She’s moved to be mostly on Games with Spencer and the two had become known as the parents of the gaming channel.

“Can you believe it’s been almost ten years? Where has time gone?” She asks, playing with his fingers and enjoying the two of them being alone for once. “I know, it seems to be just passing by. Feels like we just started dating not too long ago.” He says, smiling at her.

She gets off the couch and looks around, “It’s still crazy that Courtney got Shayne in on a plan for us to get together and now they’re married.” She says, giggling at the memory. “And the fact that we met, officially, on a set like this.” He says, getting off the couch and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Yeah, time is weird.” She says, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

“You know, I never really thought about marriage. At least, not until I met you.” He said, making her look at him confused. “You know I’ve dated a few people but I never really saw anything long-term with them. You’re different though, I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted something and I wanted it long-term.” He cups her face before moving to one knee.

“Spence, are you really?” She asks, covering her mouth. “I have loved you for years. I never want to stop loving you. You have been here for me through thick and thin. I cannot think of anyone more I want to spend my life with than you. Y/N L/N, will you marry me.” He asks, pulling out a small velvet box with a beautiful ring inside it.

“Spencer, oh my god.” She says, getting on her knees to be eye level with him. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” She says grabbing his face and kissing him.

When the two pull away, he slides the ring on her finger as she looks at him lovingly. “Should we go tell everyone?” He asks, “In a minute. I just want to be here with you for now.” She says before kissing him again.

[babygirl-riley]

You Can’t Catch Me Now

After ending a FwB with Ghost, you started to date another man. Little did you know that Ghost regrets slipping through his fingers.

A/N: Your callsign is Fox.

“The months will pass, you’ll feel it all around. I’m here. I’m there. I’m everywhere. But you can’t catch me now.”

Warnings: angst, PURE angst, toxic relationships, non established relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of major character death, not happy ending, mentions of childhood trauma, trauma, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

You both were standing in the middle of Ghost’s room. Tears stained your cheeks as his eyes glared. You rolled your eyes as you gathered more of your belongings. “Where ya goin’?” He said harshly.

“I can’t keep doing this,” You mumbled. “I know the fucking promise or deal or whatever you want to fucking call it but I can’t.”

Ghost chuckled and shook his head. “I told you this would be a fuckin’ problem. Yet your stupidity again caught the best of you.”

You snapped your head at him. “Yet YOU let it happen. YOU call me. YOU drag me to meeting rooms. YOU made this stupid mistake.”

“Mistake? You think of this…”

“Yes.” Both of you stared for a moment. Ghost was angry yet understood why you would feel that way. You just confessed your love for him. Telling him that the sex wasn’t just sex anymore. Yet months before this you promised, you said that you could handle not caring.

Ghost wanted more of course but fear was the factor. Fear of loving someone too much and losing them. He can’t do it. He can’t go through heartbreak after heartbreak. His luck isn’t good. It never will be. So why couldn’t you subside your feelings like he could? If you couldn’t then you had to go.

“Ya too damn afraid to be alone or desperate which is which,” Ghost tried to grab the words as they left his mouth. He knew that he should have shut up when your face went blank. The sadness and anger leaving quickly. “Huh? Nothing? Figures go find someone else to get into your pants then.”

You scoffed and went towards his door, opening it. Before you closed it you mumbled. “At least I know how to feel.”

Ghost’s chest tightened immediately, you didn’t know anything of his past. You just knew the basic things of a person, so you wouldn’t know that he hid behind Ghost so Simon could be protected. He wanted to, god he would love to but he couldn’t. Fear. Fear is what held him back. He thought that this was the best thing to happen, keep you away and his feelings would follow suite.

And yet here he is, staring at you with the man you brought. It was the formal military ball held every year. One significant other and you, that was all that was invited to the ball. You looked beautiful in your red dress, your hair down, and your smile. God he will never forget that beautiful smile. He used to make you smile like that, the way you slightly would tilt your head when you laughed.

Ghost felt pure jealousy, he didn’t know of course it was. He never got jealous. Never needed to. Until now. Now his blood reeks of jealousy and anger, he is taking to Soap, who is making both him and YOU laugh. Ghost is sure the man is nice but he hates him and will hate him until the day he dies.

When you brought him over, the glare is still there. Just give a short hi before ignoring both your boyfriend and you. It burns irritation into your veins in which with your pettiness you give the same effort. The man sat between Ghost and you which made Ghost even more angrier. He shouldn’t. But he is. Throughout the dinner the team is loving your man. The man that isn’t Ghost.

“‘ll be back.” Ghost mumbles before storming to the nearest exit. He needed a cigarette take off some of the tension.

“What’s your problem?” His heart skipped, it shouldn’t have. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Just needed to smoke.” He grumbled taking in the cancerous stick.

“No it’s not that,” You scoffed walking around to have him facing you. You were angry. Why? You shouldn’t be, you have what you want. “You’ve been cold.”

Ghost chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah? And what ‘bout it?”

“He didn’t do anything to you.” You hissed.

“He did.”

This time you laughed. “What the hell does that mean Simon.”

Simon. Someone that is hiding currently having Ghost play the game. Ghost stared right at you. “He took you.”

You were dumbfounded and now very angry. “He TOOK me? He didn’t take me from you. I never belonged to you. I was just your stress relief Simon.”

Ghost scoffed. “You really felt that I was using you just for sex?”

You knew he wasn’t, the small actions that he would do. Tap your knee underneath the table during briefings. Brush his hand on your lower back to move you if he was passing by. Send texts of dumb jokes. Would always be by your side. He wasn’t. You wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it. You would drop everything.

“Was it?” You asked watching his movements, his eyes, his hands.

Ghost knew the game and he wasn’t playing it. Simon wanted to begging for the truth to leave his lips. Yet Ghost was in control. “I’m not playing ya game. I asked you.”

Your game? Before you could answer your boyfriend walked out. “Hey baby they are doing the awards.” You snapped your head over to him, gave that smile you would give to new recruits.

“Okay coming.” You said looking up at Ghost. “I’ll see you inside lieutenant.” 

Ghost watched you walk away, he should have said something. He didn’t know there was a time limit. He should have learned that everyone has a time clock.

Time that had slowed. “We are pinned!” You yelled in the comms.

Ghost looked over at Price who nodded as they sprinted together. They were on some mountain in Russia. Makarov’s men pinned you and Gaz at an industrial site. Laswell found the jackpot of weapons and ammunition for Makarov’s movements. When they reached the site fire burning parts of the site. No doubt from the C4 you had. Bullets flying past everyone’s heads.

Gaz was the first to be found. “Bloody time Cap!” He yelled as he ducked behind a concrete slab.

“Where’s Fox?” Ghost asked looking around.

“She went in there to place the C4,” Gaz explained pointing to the building just a few yards away. “I tried to stop her.”

“Bollocks,” Price mumbled grabbing his comms. “Fox come in.”

It was static, making Ghost’s heart clench into nothing. “Fox com..”

“Captain Price,” Everyone’s face dropped. Makarov. “It’s interesting that you would find me here. Yet again you will not bring me to your justice.”

Ghost looked over at the building, looking for you. Wanting to see your face pop through any window. Door. Crack. Maybe you dropped your comms. “Don’t worry you haven’t left yet.” Price growled out.

“Promise you Price. I will.” Once those words left his mouth Ghost found you. On top of the roof of the building.

“Price,” Ghost said pointing towards you. Price glared following his direction, so did Gaz. “Fox.”

You had a pistol to your head with one of Makarov’s goons, that’s all he could see. “You sure you want to lose another Sargent?”

Price had no emotion but signaled for them to move forward. Ghost could get a better look of you. You were shaking your head trying to take off the duck tape. Ghost looked around there was no one else.

Your heart raced as you finally got the tape off. “Price no! It’s a tra…”

That’s when Ghost felt himself fly a few feet. Slamming into the ground, his ears ringing, his vision blurred. He looked over to see Gaz and Price getting up. Gunfire erupted. Ghost panicked, looking frantically, the building where you were on, now rubble. “No.” He whispered, grabbing his rifle.

Price grabbed his vest dragging him behind a wall. It was a minute as they returned fire. Watching as Makarov hopping on the bloody helicopter. Ghost kept shooting until the helicopter and the bullets were gone. Price panted as he looked over at the building. “Fuck.”

Ghost got up and sprinted to the rubble. He lifted and threw rubble, Gaz doing the same. Price radioing in Laswell, as he started to lift some as well. Before Price could say to fall back, Ghost say your hand. Your hand. “I got her!” He yelled.

Gaz and Price helped him lift the rubble and scrape you out. He smiled as he saw your face, he found you. He won’t let you slip through his fingers again. He will catch you. However, once pulling you out, your chest was still. Blood seeping through parts of your clothing. Nose dripping with blood.

“Love,” He whispered as he held you in his arms. You were facing him, he sat down off of his heels as he snaked his arm from under your back and lifted. “Hey come on Fox, open ya eyes.”

Price and Gaz knew, they have seen it before. Ghost did too. However, Simon was in the denial. You will open your eyes. Your beautiful eyes will look at him, give him your smile. You were fine. “Come on babygirl, you are fine ya? Fox? Please. Fox?”

Roses. Roses is what you said that were your favorite flowers. Roses. That is what was littered onto your casket. You only had your sister, so the funeral was small. Just 141, Laswell, and your sister. The boyfriend couldn’t show up, figures. Why would he? Says that it was too hard for him.

It was raining. Rain that you loved, the smell. He remembered when you danced in it, pulling him with you. Hopping on the bloody puddles. Having him laugh and act like a child that he never got to be.

Your sister talked about how you would make her smile by filling your mouth with grapes. Making it a contest. In which you did the same for him, it was the first week on the team. You were staring at him before shoving a couple of grapes in your mouth. Soap joining you, you won. Ghost sighed as he thought about how you were with Soap. You and him probably having that bloody contest again.

“It should have been you.” Your sister whispered to him as people went back to their cars. Ghost frowned looking down at her. “I mean the boyfriend.”

Ghost’s heart broke even more. “I was never good for her.” He said looking forward.

“She never thought that.” She whispered before looking up at him. “She loved you, even with the idiot, she only wanted you.” That rang through his head how you wanted him.

After that week everything that you loved would come up. Your song that you would repeat over and over, when showering. Ghost thought he heard you calling his name in the halls one night. In the bar someone looked like you, he thought that he was imagining almost went up to her. To finally snap back to see it wasn’t. Him skipping through shows and movies, landing on yours when his battery died. He watched it. After your death your dog needed a home. So he kept it, your sister couldn’t take him since she was moving to the United States. Seeing your dog always reminded him of you.

Ghost didn’t cry. Not at your funeral. Not at the signs of you. Not even when your dog did a trick only you taught him. Nothing. Until two weeks later. Never had he seen a fox in real life, not in the zoo or in their habitat. Ghost was hunched on a hill, waiting for orders to move forward. Watching the base from afar, hiding in the snow. 20 minutes went by, him still laying on the ground, scopes on. He was still until he felt something brush his leg. Making him snap his head and pulling his side arm out. When the barrel was met with a white fox, is whole body froze.

The fox was staring at him with no fear. Even sat down, staring at him, Simon felt hot tears brimming his eyes. He dropped his side arm and sobbed quietly. The fox laid close to his leg, cuddling into him. Simon tried to stop but couldn’t, he fucked up. He let you slip through his fingers. His fear outweighed his love for you.

Simon glared at the fox as it got up coming up to him brushing against him. Before placing its head on his. “I love you.” Simon whispered, the fox then left.

He watched it walk away, the fox looking one time before disappearing in the trees. Simon laid there staring in that spot. He never was able to catch you but somehow. You did. You will have always caught him. You will always be in his life. No matter where you are.